everyone knows him.
he’s well-groomed, but the after-work 5 o’clock shadow sometimes makes an appearance. he looks great in a work shirt with the top button off and the sleeves pushed up to the elbow. white canvas shoes for casual events. his hair is usually immaculately styled and when he decides to leave the contacts home, he sports a pair of spectacles with a bit of a black rim…just to look a little less serious.
he has either a great smile or dimples, sometimes both. as a rule, his eyes are mesmerizing and he looks right into yours when he talks to you. his laugh is contagious and he always has a witty comeback line. he is well-read and can carry a conversation with just about anyone. he has a favourite football/hockey/basketball team. he either plays or used to play a racket sport. he has traveled solo or done some work with the underprivileged. he has done the right things to have the right experience in order to have a conversation-ready stock of amusing stories to tell.
he gets the door for you, pulls out the chair. he carries your drinks and is the one who gets the bill.
and when you call it a night and go home, you can’t help but feel like he’s the most amazing guy in the whole world.
yes, everyone knows him. i know more than one of him. some of them know that their charm is a dangerous weapon while others remain blissfully unaware of the trail of broken hearts they have left behind. the harmless flirting. the glimmer in their eyes. the potential to inflict irreparable damage on any naive young woman.
“yeah, he’s cute, funny, and seems like a really nice guy,” she said to me one night, “but i know he’s like that with every girl he meets. i should probably stay away. he’s dangerous.” she’s right. he definitely is.